


After Effects

by MaLady335



Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Murder, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:04:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7687435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaLady335/pseuds/MaLady335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Joker took over Arkham a lot of inmates got caught up in the middle. Rebecca Hill was close to making her way out of Arkham when it happened. But the take over changed everything.</p><p>Original Title (From Rags to Raving Mad)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

For the last four years I've been rotting in Arkham without much hope of ever escaping it's clutches. It really isn't as bad as many people say. Sure it houses some of the most dangerous people on the continent and what if inmates disappear from time to time. The place is old and filled with secret dangers. Sadly enough, it has become more of a home for me than with any of the foster families I lived with. 

When I first came here that’s all the doctors would talk about, my foster families. They constantly lectured me about them. They seemed almost desperate to hear that I had been brutally abused by them and that's why I'm the way I am. I mean sure not all of them were nice one or two were bad and seemed only in it for the easy money and someone to smack around but I got out of there quick. I'm actually quite lucky. Most of the families I'd been with were caring people who wanted to help me in any way they could.

However they caught on relatively soon. There isn't anything that can really fix whatever I have. I've never really bothered to hide who I am. They would get discouraged when they received disturbing reports from school and neighbors and then realized they were in way over their heads before passing me on to someone else. It seemed like a never ending cycle from family to family trying to 'help' me. I had no interest in becoming anyone’s pet project.

The thought disgusted me; the image of them bragging to their friends about how they saved a poor damaged girl and turned her into a respectable and obeying child filled me with revulsion. Its not like I hated them for it I just knew that I was no more than a pawn in their game just like everyone else. They were kind enough to me but to be honest I almost preferred the assholes who would beat me when they got hammered. At least I knew what they wanted.

They didn't hide behind forced smiles and kind gestures they made sure I knew what I was to them, unlike the others. I never intentionally pushed them away I would just be myself like all the after school specials and Disney movies would tell you and for it I was discarded because no one wants me. They want their perfect image of me. For the first few families I had the hope that they would accept me and that I would be loved for who I was. I stomped out those hopes after the third rejection.

Its hard for me to understand why, whenever someone spends to much time with me I can see the realization dawn on there face. That there is something not quite right about me. I sensor everything I say but they always seem to catch on, I'm not sure how. There are times when I deeply miss being back in a real bed with a proper room and good food but then I remember that here no one really cares about niceties. They let you know what they want from you almost as soon as they look at you.

Well except for the psychologists of course. Its there job to try and lull you into telling them all of your deepest secrets so they can write a paper or book about it and become famous leaving you trapped in your cell with the whole world knowing your story. If there is one thing I refuse to give up its my story, its the downfall of so many. I hold it close not allowing anyone a peek into my thoughts and past. They still continue to try but they have lost the fervor that they once had. I give them only what they already know.

People already grasp to much from my records. The murder of my mother, no father, being placed into foster care with a good family that dropped me after three years . From there it was house to house without anything stable to keep me grounded and finally the incident that got me locked up in this place. It happened during the school year. School is both a blessing and a curse. I enjoy it for the familiarity of the classroom but hate the other students. They always catch on the quickest and once they do they never let it go and they make sure it follows you. 

It didn't take long till I got some nicknames and then rumors spread like wildfire about my habits. I've grown to block out their insults and have mastered the art of ignoring people. However there is always one or two that always find a way to get under my skin and have me squeezing my bag or books in anger. There were two girls who were high on the social totem pole and they took great pleasure of reminding me of my standing in the social order. Their taunts seemed to constantly trail behind me filling me with rage. 

So it didn't take long before I focused my needs onto them. Mostly I had gotten into the habit of stealing stuff, usually small things that would go unnoticed. There is nothing like the thrill of being inside of someones home while they rest unaware of your invasive presence touching and corrupting their safe haven. It wasn't hard to get into either of their houses, especially when the one girl's dog went missing. I began to take little things from their living rooms in the dead of night like a pen or a tiny figurine before I worked up the courage to go upstairs.

The first time I get to the second floor is exhilarating. I spend much of the first few times wondering what was upstairs, what secrets they hide in their rooms. So when I finally do go upstairs I spend almost five minutes just enjoying the notion that they are completely unaware of my presence. Then I make my way into the bedrooms and here is where things get really dangerous and tricky cause if anyone wakes up the game is over and there is no chance of coming back but it also has the greatest reward. 

To be in someones sanctuary with them unconscious as you learn their secrets is a marvelous feeling that is difficult to describe. But in my joy of learning who these girls are I grew careless. I had worked up the nerve and stolen the diary of one of the girls a week ago and was searching the other girls house for any kind of private object she would miss. I was searching through her closet silently when I moved the hangers that proceeded to release a wave of shoe boxes that fell on my head surprising me and waking her.

She screamed when she saw me having no idea who I was exactly since I was wearing dark cloths that were little to big and hid my shape well. Hearing the alarm she was raising I moved without thinking. I tossed the nearest object at her before sprinting out her door. Her father had awoken and stood in the hallway as I ran by. I could hear his yell of anger and pounding feet behind me. Fueled by fear I sprinted across the quiet suburban neighborhood as his yells for me to stop began to awaken the slumbering families. 

Thankfully I lost him as I took a short cut through some narrow streets that I had learned when I lived in another home near there. But my relief was only temporary as I learned at school the next day that she was in the hospital. I had thrown a vase that smashed into her face cutting up her once smooth spray tanned skin. The police were here and interviewing the students about her. I knew they would catch onto me since everyone knew that I was strange. I attempted to run away but my foster parents called the cops when they saw I was missing in the morning. They caught me heading towards the narrows. I was hoping to lose them in the close and dangerous streets of my childhood.

They found the things I had stolen from their homes in a small chest I kept under my bed. It held all of my secret prizes. My foster family got a decent lawyer who had me plea for insanity. So I was sent to Arkham at the age of fifteen to stay until I was of age where I would receive another trial to see if I was fit to reenter society or continue my sentence in Arkham Asylum. 

Which is why at the age of nineteen I find myself being carted from the mansion back to my cell in the penitentiary with a lone guard to watch me. He was more for my protection than anything else. Even though the staff consider me a cooperative patient I still wear chains wherever I go like everyone else. I've never seen a point in starting anything with any of the guards, its too much trouble.

I have however been in a few skirmishes with other inmates but that was mostly when I first came here and they tried to room me with someone else. After a day or two my roommate would demand to be moved since I wouldn't sleep and watch them at all times. Besides that and the time someone tried to get grabby with me I haven't stirred up much trouble since I got here four years ago. 

The trip between the east and west wings of Arkham is a relatively dull one with nothing but the snipers in their towers to keep an eye on you. The sharp cold breeze was the wailing theme of Arkham. No one saw it coming. It was just as we crossed the threshold into the west side of Arkham when the distant sound of screams and gunfire rolled through the air. My guard stopped as the gates to the west wing slid open to welcome a wave of the Blackgate inmates as they began attacking anyone near by.

My guard yelled for me to stay put which I of course ignored and ran for my life to the only place not currently swarming with crazed men, the medical facility. The chains made running difficult but I didn't allow them to stop me as I burst through the doors and down the hall with the secretary’s frightened yelp behind me. As I entered the sanitarium doctors and nurses stopped to look at me. They called out that I wasn't suppose to be here and a guard started to approach me until the screams of the secretary and gunfire could be heard in the next room. 

Heading towards the stairs hoping to find somewhere to hide I saw a vent and began ripping out the rusted screws. A guard grabbed my shoulder and tried to pull me away but I shook him off as the grate gave way and I crawled into a spacious air duct system. Just in time too, I could hear the doors slam against the walls at the prisoners entrance. I could hear the doctors scream as a few shots went off and I heard the body of the guard who was trying to pull me away fall. A pool of blood began to form staining the polished white linoleum.

Footsteps approached and I held my breath as I heard the body being dragged away. The deep voices of the escaped convicts reached my ears along with the occasional sob from one of the doctors. Having nowhere to run I sat in the corner hoping they would leave or that something would distract them so I could slip by. I waited with my heartbeat in my ears. Once the adrenaline wore off I began to wonder how I was going to make it through the night alive.


	2. Suit Up

I'm not sure how long I waited. I heard the door open again as my legs were growing tired from pressing myself against the cold metal wall of the ventilation system. A high pitched voice began shouting orders almost as soon as the doors banged open. They smacked against the walls, the sound unpleasant and seemed to echo in the large almost silent room.

Taking a peek I could see the escaped inmates were all huddled around the elevator where they had some doctors and what looked like a cop hostage. While that sucked for them, it was great for me. 

Crawling out from my hiding spot I stayed low so they couldn't see me as I crawled up the stairs and down the walkway till I reached a ladder. Ok now what? I could go down the ladder and pray that no one turns around to see me or I can turn around and either go back to my hiding place or try my luck outside. Harley's voice carried loudly through the quiet room.

“Me and the old man here are going down below ok. So you boys need to make sure Bats doesn't follow us and don't bother using the elevator after we go down we are gonna have a present waiting for him.”

None of the options sounded good but if I go down the ladder I would at least have a head start. If I tried going through the doors I came in I would be right next to the mob of people and they could easily catch or shot me. Either way the ladder seemed to be the safest root. Looking around the corner I could see Harley and two or three of the inmates drag the cop into the elevator as Harley's shrieking orders had my ears ringing.

“So you boys sit tight or else mister J will be really mad if you let anything happen to me and keep a hold of these doctors. We can find some use for'em,” There was a shriek as she mentioned the doctors, “anyway have fun holding the fort. Later boys.” 

Everyone was watching her so I took my chance. As I got about halfway down the ladder I heard the elevator doors shut. Tensing up I quickened my pace knowing I only had a few moments until someone turned around and saw me. 

Once I turned to head toward the door I heard one of them shout and felt a sharp pain in my arm as they began to fire at me. Sprinting through the doors my chains loudly swaying as they tried to trip me. I tried to get as much distance between myself and the men with guns as humanly possible. I took a quick turn and seeing that there was an open vent I crawled in as heavy footsteps followed behind me. I just made the turn when the panel I was in front of was filled with bullet holes.

“Man how are we gonna get her outta there?”

“Better just leave her, Joker wants us to wait for the Bat. Don't worry she wont last long with all of us in here.” I could hear them retreat but didn't dare move till I heard the soft sound of the door opening.

Taking a peek I was relieved to not see anyone outside the vent. Now that I wasn't being chased by men with guns the sound of the prerecorded message about how great Arkham finally reached my ears.

“…...High quality of care coupled with Arkham Asylums convenient location...” 

'Uh makes me wanna throw up.'

When I finally got up my courage I crawled to the edge of the vent and looked down the hallways. Not seeing or hearing anyone I climbed down and began to survey the area. 

I've rarely been in the medical facility. At most I was here about twice a year for checkups so this place was a mystery to me. There were several dead guards, doctors, and nurses. There were bullet holes in almost every wall and blood was drying on the walls and floor. The dead nurse leaning against the wall had a blood trail showing that he had been standing when he had been shot.

The video that was looping through the halls talked about the benefits of Arkham which contradicted greatly with the bloody scene before me.

“….We are voted the 1# facility in the entire state...”

Getting out of the vent I realized I was in the hallway that led to surgery and began to follow the red line leading to surgery. The floor was littered with knocked over equipment showing that the inmates have been down this way but aren’t here now. 

Following the hallway I ran into a cabinet of guard supplies that had been broken into. I was surprised that they just had these lying around. Though it is Arkham so it would make sense that they would keep extra bulletproof vests and keys around. Smiling at my luck I searched and was able to find several sets of keys and began the tedious task of trying to find the right one to unlock my chains.

Thankfully it was on the first giant keyring and I rubbed my wrists and kicked them away as they released my ankles, glad to have full movement again. Looking the supplies over there weren't any weapons left and only the smallest sizes of bullet proof vests. Slipping one of the vests on it was still way to big for me. I grabbed a few of the straps used for keeping a patient strapped down to tighten the vest around my torso. I probably looked silly but I would be protected. I found some gauze and supplies to patch up the graze on my arm.

It wasn't deep, I was lucky the bullet missed but it still hurt and was bleeding a bit. Now if I only had a weapon. Searching through the scattered supplies on the floor I couldn't find anything and grew frustrated. Not sure what to do with myself I wandered down the hallway till I reached a fork. On the wall it said the left was surgery and the right was patient observation.

Taking the left with the hope of finding some sharp instruments to protect myself, I found a table that had been knocked over that was surrounded by scalpels. Grabbing as many as I could safely carry I went back to the supply cabinet. 

'Now what to do with them?'

The Arkham uniforms weren't exactly made for holding weaponry. I mean, none of them had handles so I can't exactly wield them like a knife. Once I reached the cabinet I examined the scalpels and wondered what exactly I could do with them. Looking over the guards supplies I was able to find a set of gloves and an idea struck me. I began scrambling down the hall looking for and finding some string, a needle, and glue. 

Sitting down I looked over the scalpels I had grabbed. There were six one inch curved scalpels and four one inch regular scalpels. I grabbed the gloves and began to glue before sewing the scalpels onto the gloves. I've never really sewed before and the thick surgical twine with the curved needle made for sewing flesh were difficult but I got it done with my fingers feeling cramped and sore. 

Slipping them on I could feel the string on top of my fingers as I began to test the sturdiness by pulling on the scalpels. They seemed secure enough so I now had at least some kind of weapon. I sewed the scalpels so the regular scalpels were on the knuckles of my right hand. So if I punched someone they would get sliced with the sharp instruments and on my left hand I sewed the curved scalpels to the fingers of the gloves so they would act as claws whenever I swung at anyone.

I'm not sure how effective they would be but its better than nothing. Though I would prefer an actual knife or a gun. Now that I had something to defend myself with I can go and find somewhere safe to hideout till things blow over. 

'Now where would be a good place to hide?' 

Going back the way I came is out of the question. The hallway I'm currently in leads to surgery, which I know is a dead end but it couldn't hurt to check it out.

As I was walking down the hallway I was just about to make a turn when I heard voices. Freezing in place I pushed myself against the wall and listened. I heard at least three of them and there were probably more since they were talking about ambushing Batman. Carefully taking quiet steps I turned around and went back down the hallway. 

'Well that ways a dud. God isn't there one place in this whole building that isn't infested with the Joker's goons.'

I followed the hallway till I reached the door I had come through and saw that the walls were painted with arrows that lead to two other rooms, X-Ray, and Observation. 

It was becoming difficult to focus on where to go with that same message looping over, and over, and over, uh it was annoying. I really just wanted to get somewhere so I didn't have to hear that message again. Before I could make a decision I saw the door I came through starting to open. I bolted. Refusing to wait around to see who came through the door I ran to the ventilation shaft I had hid in previously. Climbing inside I crawled till I reached the turn and waited to see who came by. 

I sat there for a few moments listening to the sound of my breathing and the same recording. I dared not to blink in case it was the thugs from earlier coming back to make sure they more than grazed me this time. But it was only there for a second. A black figure passed by my hiding place and they had a long black cape, theire steps almost silent on the white linoleum.

Realization hit me that Batman was actually here. I'd heard the Joker's goons talk about him but I didn't quite accept that he was actually here. 

'I wonder if he saw me, if he did he must not find me a threat or else he would have dragged me out of here. Since he came by he must have came through the only entrance which means that it should be safe to leave.'

I've heard many different stories about Batman. He was one of the only things everyone seemed to talk about. It seemed weird after hearing so much about him to actually see him. Realizing he is actually real and not just a fairytale.

Relief washed over me. I wasn't sure how much longer I was gonna be able to handle any more cycles of that stupid message. As I crawled out and headed back to the door I wondered where I should go. I mean I spent most of my time in the penitentiary and never got a chance to roam the island on my own. But I know that this place is filled with old catacombs that have been here for over a century. Entering the sanitarium I found the unconscious bodies of the prisoners from earlier littering the floor.

Climbing the ladder on the left so I could head straight for the door. I looked up and saw that the doctors and nurses were free and standing around the elevator. One of the doctors saw me and attempted to talk to me. But I ran past them and through the doors not wanting to get put back into chains.

For the first time since I got here I felt a sense of freedom. I roamed at my leisure not having a guard or nurse towing me around. The entrance looked terrible and the secretaries desk had been shoved aside violently near the door. There were blood stains but no sign of her body. Finally leaving the bleach scented building the whole area seemed eerily calm and quiet.

Looking around I could see a few thugs wandering the area and I instinctively ducked down. I heard the Joker's voice over the com system ordering his men around. I stayed low and behind the bushes watching them as I headed towards the doors that lead to the east wing. Seeing that there were more men near the north entrance who seemed to be building something. 

A small fence was the last protective cover and from there I would have to sprint across the open area and pray that none of them see me. Seeing the one closest turn around and head up the hill I took the opportunity and jumped over the little fence. Running as fast as I could toward the doors not daring to look back. I ran past them and into the corridor between the two areas. Frowning I saw that the gate had been closed and locked so I reached for the bars and began trying to climb over it.


	3. Abyss

The sound of the heavy security doors opening reached me as I got a good footing on the gate. I turned and saw two of the Blackgate prisoners approaching. I scrambled to climb over the fence before they reached me and just as I reached the top I felt a hand grab my ankle and tried to violently tug me off the fence.

I kicked at him, trying to get him to let go. Making contact with something that must have hurt he released me. Before I could even revel in my victory I felt someone grab my hair and pull hard. This is one of the moments where I regretted attacking anyone who approached me with scissors. 

Hitting the ground knocked the wind out of me. I laid there stunned as a foot came and collided with my ribs. I would have groaned if I had gotten my breath back. Getting on my knees attempting to both stand and breath, another foot kicked me in the stomach but didn't knock me back down. Taking a deep breath I looked up at the two guys and punched the one in front of me in the stomach with my right hand. He gave a cry as the scalpels cut through several layers of skin and dug into his abdominal muscles. 

The other one punched me in the side hitting my ribs, the vest providing some protection. Without thinking I clawed at him with my left hand leaving deep scratches in his arm. I reached back and punched the guy again in the stomach. He backed away as blood began to poor out of his abdomen. I turned to the other guy and punched him in the throat. I felt the blades break through his skin and nick his larynx.

Blood began to soak into my glove as realization dawned on him that he was gonna die. I removed my fist and he held his throat stumbling back as blood escaped between his fingers. I felt a force hit me knocking me down as I had just enough time to turn around before the guy used his crushing weight to hold me down as he punched me in the face

Grabbing his fist with my left hand I dug the scalpels into his knuckles. He gave a cry when blood leaked out. I leaned up having trouble breathing and punched him in the face. The scalpels cutting through the delicate muscles of the face causing him to get up cursing. Now free of his suffocating weight I got up and kicked him in the knee feeling the cartilage give way. He went to the ground crying, clutching his damaged knee. Looking down at him I punched him in the face with my right hand feeling the blades catch and collide with the bones of his face I used my foot to hold him down and didn't stop till his grip on my legs grew weak and his arms fell to the ground.

Backing away from the now dead man adrenaline was rushing through my veins. Their blood had soaked into the gloves wetting my fingers and making the gloves slip a bit. Taking deep breaths my ribs and face throbbing probably bruised. My face felt sore and tender to the touch. My hand throbbed as I felt the repercussions of punching someone so many times.

My scalp screamed in protest as I pulled the chunks of lose flesh out of my hair wondering if the missing sections were noticeable. This was the first time I had ever killed a person before. Looking at their sprawled out bodies I didn't really feel anything. I wasn't feeling guilty, or mad, I just felt tired.

Turning back to the fence I climbed over it. The spikes at the top getting caught on my regulation orange pants that were a little to big for me but I made it over ok. The corridor was old and parts of it had collapsed but I had gone through it enough to get around the rubble. The walk felt longer than before. I reached the security doors leading to Arkham East. There were probably cobwebs in my hair and as the doors opened I was hit with a wave of exhaustion as my eyes locked onto the chaos of guards and inmates fighting.

Wanting to get away from the craziness I bolted for the mansion pausing at the giant statue of Sharp trying to avoid all the guards and inmates. Both had weapons but I could see that the guards were outnumbered. Noticing that no one saw me I took my chance and ran to the mansion. They were too busy fighting each other to worry about me so I easily got to the door. 

Bursting through the doors the room was surprisingly empty. Paper was scattered all over the floor making me wonder where everyone went. Another Sharp statue stood guard at the center of the room looking down at me disapprovingly as I walked past. How I hated that man. Though there probably wasn't a single patient that didn't hate him. Leaving the entrance the even larger statue loomed. Ignoring it I passed through the metal detectors I had gone through only a few hours ago. They rang angrily due to my makeshift weapons.

The paper seemed to make a layer covering the floor. It made me think about what had happened here. Almost all of the desks had there contents scattered to the floor the chairs cast aside as whoever hunted for who knows what. Walking to the center of the room I was hit with another wave of exhaustion once again. I wanted to desperately go back to my cell and sleep for days. Peering up at the statue my eye caught something green behind the vent. Feeling curious since I was out of danger for now I grabbed a chair and dragged it over to the statue.

Using a penny I found on the floor I slowly removed the screws and took off the vent. Inside a green question mark statue seemed to glow slightly. Crawling in I picked it up and instantly put it back. 

'It must be one of the Riddler's clues and I've heard many stories of what has happened to people who have tried to solve his riddles.'

Resting my head against the cold metal of the vent my mind drifted back to my cell and routine, desiring its familiarity in this insanity that has taken over. The guards had almost become part of the scenery at this point. I've just gotten used to their presence and having no privacy made being alone both refreshing and strange.

Of course I never forgot that they are dangerous and I'm just another prisoner that needed to be subdued or I could disappear like the others. The big fish had some measure of safety since if they would go missing people would ask questions. I kept my head down except for the few times I felt like I was in real danger. Like when a night guard had come into my cell drunk and started to get handsie. I was able to wrestle his baton away from him and wasn't able to do any serious damage before the other guards arrived.

If it wasn't for the fact he has been in several other situations I would have been punished instead of him getting fired. Yawning as thoughts of my lumpy bed swam through my head. My eyes began to drift shut with my limbs feeling heavy. Desperately wanting to rest my eyes but knowing I couldn't sleep long. 

'I'll just stay here a few minutes and I'll move on.'

Waking up as my head banged against the metal making a loud sound reverberate through the small space and my skull. I felt a harsh grip pulling me out by my ankle. Looking back a face I was hopping to avoid tonight was staring at me with his deranged eyes. I tried to kick him away with my free foot and my hands tried to grip anything in an attempt to not let Zsasz take me. but my gloves and scalpels just scraped against the metal that shrieked in protest. He just grabbed my other foot that didn't connect with anything and gave one final tug that had me flailing to get my balance as I tried to grab the edge of the vent for support. But it was just out of my reach and I fell my upper body colliding with the chair I had set down in order to climb into the vent. 

Dazed Zsasz dragged my slumped form off of the chair and laid me out on the ground. One of his hands shot to my throat and his bruising grip woke me from my stupor as I struggled violently. Using the claws to dig into his arm he didn't even flinch. He just kept staring at me before he released my throat and gave me a brutal punch to the face. My nose exploded as blood ran down my face. I swung at him but he easily dodged my attacks. The blood was running down to my eyes making it difficult to see but I could feel him circling me.

I needed to get away. Victor Zsasz never leaves survivors and if I hoped to live I have to get as much space between myself and him as possible. He began to speak but I couldn't hear him over the pounding of my head. I tried to stand to only have him stomp down on my ribs. Groaning as I felt them crack the realization I was going to die began to flood all of my senses when one of the Jokers goons came and interrupted Zsasz. I was ready and took my chance as I stood up ignoring my screaming ribs and ran towards what I believed was a door. Whipping the blood from my eyes just in time to see and push the heavy door open. I could hear Zsasz running after me.

The hallway I entered was filled with glass cases. I ran around them not really paying them any attention and only focused on the end of the hall. Cries escaped me as I could hear him getting closer but I didn't dare look back. Fear was crushing my heart as his thumping stride filled my ears. I begged the god I've never believed in to not let him catch me.

He stopped running about a third of the way down the hallway. I felt the hope that he would leave me be bloom in my chest. A tearing pain pierced my shoulder stopping me in my tracks. 

Looking down I could see the point of his knife barely sticking out of my left shoulder. My blood began to stain the vest turning it an even darker shade. The sensation of my blood running down my chest soaking my clothes the only thing that registered as I was temporarily stunned. I tried to continue walking but moving was difficult. My legs wobbled unable to carry my weight as I fell to my knees. I tried to crawl away. I could hear him walking calmly towards me. His pace perfectly in tune with the drum of my heartbeat.

I couldn't move, my body was heavy and the darkness was coming in. I wished I could cry knowing I was dying in this shit hole. My head began to feel light and my eyelids felt heavy as I idly wondered whether he was coming to get his knife or to stab me some more. The last thing I registered before I was wrapped in darkness was the searing pain of the knife being taken out with callused fingers caressing my hair in an almost a gentle manner. The thought of who would find my body was the final thing that crossed my mind as I was lost in the cold black abyss.


	4. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron Cash

1 DAY LATER

 

The night seemed to last forever but it did thankfully end with Cash's body sore and wondering if he'll be keeping his job. Batman had stopped the Joker's plan as Gordon hauled him away to his cell. With Batman's help they were able to remove Ivy's deadly plants from the main grounds so Cash and the few remaining guards started working on the horrifying job of finding all the dead. It took several hours before the police brought in more people and even with their help it took several days to find everyone. It was hard for him to see all these people he worked with on a daily basis gone in one night.

Sure people die or go missing at Arkham way too often but never to this extent before. All the guards were wearing masks because the smell was becoming unbearable. A lot of the dead were dumped in the water so there were boats with teams of divers to pick up the ones who hadn't started to float yet.

It was one of these teams that picked up Johnathan Crane trying to escape. If it wasn't for his toxin dispenser being ruined by the water he could have overpowered them and got out scott free. Of course Crane wasn't the only one brought back in. The police even brought in Nygma as they came to help. Apparently Batman can multitask like no other.

The round up of criminals was the part of those days that were easy for him. Cash knew how to handle dangerous people. He knew what to do and how to react to them. It was the army of families and friends that began to line up outside the gates that he couldn't handle.

There were so many people wanting to know where their loved one was, and he couldn't tell them. They were still coming across people hiding around the island but those were few and far between. Whenever he found another body he knew someone out front was gonna get some bad news. 

Sadly most of them wouldn't even get an open casket. With Ivy's plants, Croc, and Joker's goons running lose most of the bodies were in horrific shape. 

Zsasz's handiwork was easy to spot. The usual knife wounds and posed bodies. At least with him you knew his body count. Many of his new marks were still bleeding when they hauled him back into a new cell. 

There were also the many inmates and workers alike who were killed by the Scarecrow. His toxin left the body unharmed but they always had the most horrified look on their face.

What became alarming was the amount of consistent unknown wounds found on the dead. At first we thought it was just one or two of the Joker's goons getting creative. However the injuries didn't match up with any of their weapons. The Blackgate prisoners used guns, knives, and bats, not multiple small blades.

The unknown killer's body count began to really stack up. All of the bodies looked like they had been clawed up by a large cat. The cuts were to small to be Croc's, and Catwoman not only didn't kill but she wasn't even on the island that night.

We dug through the many nooks and crannies around Arkham. Pulling bodies and still living patients out of the walls and grates in the older, abandoned areas of Arkham. It was on the last day that we actually found the culprit. Several decomposing bodies lead us to her. She was tucked away in the sewers. Her body was covered in blood, it was caked on her face and up her arms. It had dried near her elbows and was flaking off. She seemed to be vibrating with tension, her eyes focused on the clouded water.

The vest was noticeable but her weapons weren't. One of the guys moved closer to her only to get his throat sliced open. She then moved to attack the rest of us, I tased her stopping her in her tracks. It took three guys to hold her down and get her makeshift weapons off of her. She growled and groaned like an animal. Once we had her restrained we took her to medical.

She broke a guys arm as we tried to strap her down to a table. Only then were the docs able to cut off and peel the vest away. She moaned as the scabbed wounds had stuck to the vest that she'd been wearing for days. The most alarming wound was a stab right above her heart. It went straight through her right under her collarbone. 

Her torso was decorated in bruises. The worst of which were blooming around her cracked ribs. The girl looked like she was right out of high school. Her thin arms started bleeding from her own wounds as they cleaned off the days old blood. She was fighting the restraints the whole time.

“Did she really kill over 30 people? Most of those guys were Blackgate prisoners.” Cash asked one of the police techs examining her weapons.

“It looks like it. These weapons are consistent with the wounds on the bodies we've found. And if we were able to test the blood she's wearing I'd bet they'd come back positive.” He was holding her gloves.

The scalpels looked almost copper with the amount of blood dried onto them. The fabric was cracking since it was soaked through with blood and sweat.

“I can't believe a girl that young and small could do all that.” Cash added not liking this one bit.

“It's amazing she survived the night at all.” The doctor examining her started, “I have no idea where she's getting this energy from. Her stomach is empty and with the amount of blood she's lost she should have passed out days ago.” He was writing frantically on his chart.

An older doctor passed by and paused at the scene taking place.

“What in the world happened to Rebecca?” 

“You know this patient?” Cash asked.

“Yes this is Rebecca Hill. She's been here for almost four years.” He answered looking alarmed at her current condition.

“Do you have her file?”

“No I'm not her primary doctor. Sadly we finished processing his body a few hours ago. But this is definitely not the girl I remember.” She was still straining against the restraints in her attempt to attack anyone near her.

The doctor currently working on her joined the conversation. “We should probably do some scans on her when she's patched up. If her behavior is that different she might have sustained some significant trauma to cause this shift in her ability to function. It doesn't look like Titan but who knows?”

Due to the amount of work they still had left, he left her in their care. There wasn't much he could do for her anyway.

The hardest and tedious work was scouring the sewers to find Croc. Whenever there was an escape attempt they needed to check if he was there and with this much chaos the mandatory annoyance felt necessary. They found him as he tried to drag one of the guards into the waters with him.

Pressing down on the collars remote he released the man. They were able to get the links connected to his collar before he sunk back into that murky water. As they pulled him out we saw the familiar scratch patterns down the side of his face and neck. Hooking the last links up they began to move him to the more secure cell above.

“Did you have a run in with that Rebecca girl?” Cash asked.

“Is that who that little girl was? She came down here and started killing off my meat. When I tried to get her she got me one good.” Croc growled out scratching at the long marks running down his neck. “Didn't think a little waif like that had it in her.”

Once he was put in his temporary cell they went back to bagging bodies. When they finally found the last body Cash felt like he could sleep for days. He had more funerals than he could count to go to in the next week and he desperately wanted to go home and pass out on his unused bed.

Unfortunately due to most of the guards not making it he was stuck in Arkham. He was practically living there for the next several weeks. Cash was lucky to get over 6 hours of sleep at night as he was often woken up to alarms and freaked out newbies. 

Since they had such a small staff they had to push even the high risk patients into close quarters. They were stretched too thin to afford the space they had before. Sharp also wasn't hiring guards fast enough and whenever he talked to Sharp about it he would just brush it off. As the first month rolled around Sharp finally got some help in the form of Hugo Strange. Cash doesn't really trust the guy but the men he's bringing in is a big help. 

That girl Rebecca that he had found was moved up to high risk due to her body count and violent tendencies. Cash didn't like having her in the same block as Zsasz, Scarecrow, and the Riddler but even with Strange's men we still couldn't move them just yet.

Since Strange came on Sharp has been droning on and on about building a new facility once he becomes mayor. He has really gotten on Cash's case to keep everything hush hush so nothing looks bad for his campaign. Sharp has stopped putting funds into Arkham in order to push his agenda for a new facility, making it even harder to get a new surveillance system up and running. It made Cash anxious that they couldn't afford to have camera's around. It made it easier for the patients to sneak contraband or escape without notice.


	5. Dark Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor Zsasz

Zsasz was constantly shifting between excitement and rage. How had that girl survived? He was sure he got her heart. No matter how much he willed it to not be true he could see the girls pacing form. She was always moving, like a tiger put in a cage just a bit too small.

His cell was just far enough away he couldn't get direct sight of her but he could barely see her face when she was in the corner closest to the door. It was aggravating knowing she was so close yet he still couldn't reach her. His rage would transform into excitement whenever he saw a brief glimpse of her eyes. There was a familiarity with her look, one that he could appreciate.

That excitement quickly gave way to his anger as her mark itched terribly. He had marked for what he hadn't taken. It was wrong, it made his fingers twitch with the desire to cut. His mind was racing with the need to kill. Why must he wait so long? Zsasz knows why, but knowing doesn't make him have to like it. Finally it was time for his therapy session.

Zsasz was never sure if he hated or loved his therapy sessions. It was the only time he was allowed to interact with another person but it was so dull. No matter who they gave him they always asked the same questions. Though it did always give him a new mark in the long run, he wasn't sure whether it was worth it or not. 

This new doctor was no different, he was a stuffy old zombie with shaky hands and sagging skin. Dr. Arnold was assigned to him after he killed his previous therapist during the Joker's takeover. The restraints pulled at his skin. He had several wounds decorating his wrists and ankles from his chains. The therapist's hands trembled terribly as he sat across from Zsasz.

They had restrained him by chaining his hands and feet to one chain that was then put through a loop in the floor. His head movements were extremely limited due to the bars attached to his collar that forced him to stay a certain distance. 

He felt like a rabid animal, so dangerous they feared attempting to kill him. The doctor was talking but Zsasz barely noticed his words. He focused more on his movements and the emptiness that allowed this creature to live. It wasn't long before he was staring longingly at the man's throat unaware that the man had stopped talking as he stilled. The doctor noticed the evident desire in Zsasz's eyes.

He was at a safe distance with restraints to keep him still and guards to make him behave. Yet the doctor stilled feared for his life as though Zsasz could simply walk across the room to reach him. With a few words the doctor left, too afraid to continue the session. It didn't bother Zsasz, in fact it was just what he needed.

His timing must be perfect. If that took even a few minutes longer then he'd miss his window and have to wait another week. Then she turned the corner. The girl of his dreams, Rebecca Hill. He can still see the vision of her dying face from last night. She has taken over his thoughts as of late. He killed her yet she walks around. Her mark itched terribly as she got closer. 

The smallness of her makes it so easy to underestimate her. Even so her guards have her in the same get up as Zsasz. Except her eyes aren't focused on much of anything. Zsasz feels his body grow warm as she passes. Her eyes briefly glancing up to see him, following him for a brief moment. They lite up with intensity as she struck first.

If he hadn't locked eyes with her he wouldn't have dodged in time. Her restraints flew out of her guards hands as she launched herself at Zsasz. Fist colliding with his face, breaking his nose but not thrusting it into his brain as she originally intended. Grabbing her wrist Zsasz snapped it.

She groaned, kicking him in the back of my knees. Zsasz's guards attempted to pull him away to only be slammed into the wall, temporarily dazed. Kneeling he rammed his bound wrists into her ribs. Her beautiful, intense eyes closing as she yelped in pain. Now stunned he leapt up to body slam her into the floor. The chains on his wrists landing around her throat perfectly.

Her mouth opened, attempting to pull in air but failing. He stared into her eyes, being consumed by them. She began punching him in the ribs to try to force him off. Pushing his chain further into her throat, watching as her flesh stretched around the intrusion. Zsasz's hands loosened after several punches. Shoving him off of her he never got to feel her next attack.

They were shot with tasers. Both of them collapsing to the floor as their bodies spasmed. Looking over she was only a few feet away. Only a few feet away from getting rid of this itch. Her eyes locked with his again. They were alight with life as she stared back at him, filled with a determination he needed to understand.

Zsasz was dragged to solitary a deranged look on his face as he thought of her eyes. Little Rebecca had life in her. Life that he didn't see before. Forced into that small box again, he found reprieve in his mind. She was stronger now, more knowledgeable, more REAL than any of these walking zombies. She had changed from a zombie into a living thing. Her skill was lacking but he could help her with that. The scar still itched but not nearly as bad as the desire to see her again. To fight her, to take her, to make her just like him. She would get it, HE KNOWS she would. Finally there was someone to join him on his quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for this short chapter
> 
> This complete overhaul of my original concept is taking longer than I thought. And Zsaszafraz is always hard to write.

**Author's Note:**

> [I have a Tumblr if you want to see me go on about the weird stuff I write. Also if you want to talk to me about written porn in general.](https://malady335.tumblr.com/)


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